


the chasez method (the his warm embrace mix)

by Vera



Category: NSYNC
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fairy Tales, M/M, Remix, We Invented The Remix 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-02
Updated: 2009-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"Hmm," he thought, "That's not how it's supposed to go."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	the chasez method (the his warm embrace mix)

**Author's Note:**

> Remix of [The Chasez Method](http://www.silveryscrape.mediawood.net/chasez_method.htm) by silveryscrape for [We Invented The Remix 7](http://community.livejournal.com/remix7/)

_Once upon a time it was believed that if you wanted to know if he loved you so, the truth was in his kiss. Only true love would awake to true love's kiss. _

_This is how is happened._

 

Chris wished for a first aid kit. It wasn't the first wish he'd made on this journey and it didn't distinguish itself by being the first wish to be granted.

"Bloody fairy godmothers," he said, pushing aside another thorny rose-covered vine and wriggling further in. Light was fading, the hedge of roses reached high above him, spangling the sun into coins of light; the springy branches closed behind him. Just as he was feeling sure he was traveling in a circle around the castle, he spied stone and the welcome dark wood of a door.

An unlocked door.

A door that opened outwards.

After clearing away a few more vines - and happily stomping roses into the ground - Chris had opened the door enough to squeeze through. Scratched and bloodied hands held out before him, he made his was into the dark castle.

"Bloody hell!" He blinked as torches suddenly came alight along a high wall. "Fire would have been handy a little earlier," he said as if scolding someone. He was in a vast banquet hall. He knew it was a banquet hall due to the banquet laid out and all the people who had clearly fallen asleep in mid-carouse.

He nicked a cloth from a slumped servant, found some water and cleaned himself off. He didn't want to scare anyone (not yet mentioning any names) with blood and dirt, though he wasn't to know that his efforts didn't improve his scruffy appearance that much. Petals, leaves and twigs adorned his head and made him look like a character in another forest-based story altogether.

He swigged some wine from one of the banquet table's jugs and, thus fortified, headed up the only stairs leading from the great room. Somehow, he figured, it wouldn't be too hard to find the room he was seeking.

 

When Chris found the room, it didn't seem to be a princely room, nor the bed on which the prince lay in enchanted sleep a particularly luxurious bed. The cover was plain, there was only one pillow, though it was clearly soft and feathery. The prince's head was turned to one side, toward the door. His brown hair curled over his forehead and around his ears, his cheekbones high and sharp, his nose a royal prow, his eyelashes soft and black along the curves of his closed eyelids. A small damp spot marked the pillow next to his rosy lips. He was very handsome.

"All righty," Chris said, "here goes." The prince's breath was sweet, it smelled of juniper and oranges and not at all like someone who had been asleep for a hundred years. (Chris wasn't resentful of being scratched up. He wasn't.) He pressed his lips to the prince's and licked, and pressed again, but the prince beneath him slept on.

"Hmm," he thought, "That's not how it's supposed to go."

 

_Okay. This is actually how it happened. _

 

Chris nudged his horse along the forest path, now hard to see in the long-shadowed afternoon light. This seemed a fruitless journey, through a dark and unknown forest as night approached, but fairy godmothers were not to be gainsaid, apparently. At least, his knew how to look at him with sharp green eyes and pursed lips and somehow here he was. "Gee up, neddy," he told the horse, "Maybe there'll be an inn soon."

There wasn't. What there was turns out to be a clearing, almost circular, populated by attractive woodland creatures and a number of very short, hairy men, all sitting quietly. In the middle of the clearing a lidless glass box stood mounted on a sturdy wood frame. Inside the box a very handsome man lay in funereal repose, his head on a plump white satin pillow, his long fingered hands peacefully resting one on the other on his attractively muscled chest. Two lovebirds perched, snuggling, on his boots.

"Um, hi," said Chris, dismounting.

"Hello," replied the least lugubrious and hirsute of the men. A rabbit nibbled at Chris' ankle. "Have you come to see the prince?"

Prince? thought Chris. Of course it's a bloody prince. He nudged the rabbit aside. "So, what was it this time? Evil Witch? Wicked Stepmother?"

"Both," the little man replied, and the man next to him sobbed into his neckerchief.

"Oh, well. Some people are just that lucky, I guess. Here goes, then." Leaping up on to the frame, Chris held the side of the box and leaned in to kiss the apparently dead, hopefully only comatose prince. His first kiss was mis-aimed, squishing his lips against a smooth cheek, damp with tears... no, drool. Ew. Chris tried again, more successful in his aim but, as he soon realized, no more successful in bringing the prince to consciousness.

"Damn," he said, looking around at seven very angry, very axe-wielding men, a couple of wild-eyed birds and a cross rabbit, "that's definitely not how it's supposed to go."

 

_Seriously, now. It happened like this:_

 

"You've got to be kidding me," said Chris.

"Ribbit," said the frog.

 

_Fine. You know what? It didn't happen that way. Sheesh. _This_ is how it happened. _

 

"JC, C, C, Jesus, fuck, yes, yes, fuck.

"You're a god, you're a genius, yes.

"Like that, yes, just there.

"Oh my God, yes!"

Chris couldn't move. He was dead. He was comatose. He'd reached nirvana, heaven. Every cell in his body was happily stupefied. The mattress rocked a little as JC made his way up the bed and flopped down. After a minute, he felt JC's elbow nudge his side.

"Hey, Chris?"

He was dead.

JC ran his hand down Chris' lax arm to grasp his hand.

He was comatose.

JC pulled Chris' hand over to his crotch. "Chriiiis."

Stupefied.

"Come on, Chris." JC's dick twitched eagerly under his fingers, but he didn't move them. "Chris, you fucker."

Chris opened one eye to peer at JC. "It takes a kiss to wake the sleeping prince, man."

 

_And they all lived happily every after._

\---


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